Mental Kicks in the Coccyx
by ALC Punk
Summary: Domino and Stryfe have this little talk while he's sort of... inhabiting her brain.


Disclaimer: I own neither Domino nor Stryfe, and Nathan certainly isn't mine. I'm not making any money from this, it's written purely for my own amusement, and because I knew it would weird people out.  
  
Dedication: This one is a sneaky belated birthday present for Srenny. And it's her fault, too. ;)  
  
Mental Kicks in the Coccyx  
by Ana Lyssie Cotton  
  
"One doesn't *hum* after two hours' sleep and a chili dog. Not vocally, anyway." Stryfe muttered at his companion.  
  
"You wear a silver helmet." She pointed out logically.  
  
"Not the same thing."  
  
"Did I say it was?"  
  
"Well... no," he admitted, "but you implied."  
  
"Never assume, Stryfe, never assume." Domino retorted, tossing a napkin at him.  
  
He sniffed. "Yes, mom."  
  
"That's a frightening thought, and entirely impossible."  
  
"Thank Hera." he muttered.  
  
"What, you don't think I'd be a good mother?"  
  
He caught her finger stroking the gun under her waistband, and ahemed. "Maybe."  
  
"Y'know, if I shoot you, no one's gonna care."  
  
"But it'll hurt."  
  
"You're whining."  
  
"I get it from my template."  
  
"Nate doesn't whine."  
  
"You ever seen him at the back of the line for the Big waterslide?"  
  
"No, and neither have you."  
  
"He's never told you about our vacations at Wet'n'Wild, then."  
  
"..."  
  
Stryfe gave her a smug look, "You think only you are allowed your strange vacations?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Impossible woman."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
He snorted, "Aliya was no better. Always had to tell me in no uncertain terms that I was definitely NOT the Chosen One, and I sucked."  
  
"Still bitter about that, aren't you."  
  
"Yes."  
  
She snickered, "I liked her, the one time we met."  
  
"You would."  
  
"I can see why Nate compares us, sometimes."  
  
"Not favourably, either."  
  
"Oh, thanks."  
  
"You're welcome." He leaned back lazily, "You know, this would be so much easier if you'd just stop objecting."  
  
"Hey. My brain. My life. Not yours."  
  
"But you seemed so hospitable." A sigh echoed from him.  
  
"You're the one who was stupid enough to jump down the link as it closed."  
  
"At least you can't get rid of me."  
  
"I'll keep trying."  
  
Stryfe chuckled, "This could be pointless for eternity, Domino."  
  
"Pointless it is, then."  
  
"Gah. Nathan's Askani Wisdom rubs off more than I'd thought it would."  
  
She smirked at him. "Why don't you just give up, Stryfe? Die, like any normal insane megalomaniac does when he perishes on the moon."  
  
"Because it's so much fun to stay around."  
  
"For you, maybe."  
  
"I could make it fun for you," He purred seductively.  
  
"Suck a gun barrel."  
  
"If that's what it takes to turn you on."  
  
She snorted.  
  
"Or would you prefer cigarettes and velvet lace."  
  
"Neither."  
  
"Wine, dancing, a little punk polka."  
  
"Punk polka?"  
  
He chuckled, "Intrigued?"  
  
"Only by the thought of ripping your guts out with my bare hands."  
  
"Careful, dear, those are now your guts."  
  
"They were mine, first."  
  
"They're still yours," He pointed out. "We're merely sharing them."  
  
"For how long?"  
  
"Eternity could not be long enough for us, my dear."  
  
"Cut the crap, Stryfe."  
  
He sighed, "All my flowery praise, and she still just wants a quick screw behind the bar."  
  
"I don't want anything of the sort." She snapped, irritated.  
  
"Well, then. I want Nathan dead. I want his family dead as well. It would be nice if there were some attendant suffering and angst. But I'll take the entire Askani clan's guts for your garters."  
  
"You'll have to settle for eternity bored, then. I have better things to do with my time."  
  
"Are you sure about that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He sighed, sad. "Can I at least have some angst from the Summers?"  
  
"That's status quo, for them. It'd be better to ask for their happiness."  
  
"I don't want any of my family happy."  
  
"Would you be happy if they were sad?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, then, part of your family would be happy. Wouldn't that defeat your purposes?"  
  
"...No."  
  
Domino studied the table that sat between them. It was odd, for their to be a table. This place wasn't real, well, not outside real, anyway. Kind of odd to find that the inside of her mind included a small Italian bistro. And that Stryfe was happily consuming spaghetti with meatballs.  
  
"You didn't get out much as a kid."  
  
"I got to kill people."  
  
"Not the same thing, Stryfe."  
  
"How would you know, you don't even remember your childhood."  
  
"I remember enough to know that children should laugh and play in sunlight and rain and mud." Dom sighed, wistful. "I miss the simplicity of sand pies and castles at the beach."  
  
"And you say I'm a looney." Stryfe remarked, poking at a meatball with his fork. It seemed to take exception to his treatment, and bounced off the plate, hit the table and rolled off onto the floor. He looked at it forlornly. "I lost my meatball."  
  
She snickered, and began to singsong, "On top of spaghetti, all covered in cheese, Stryfe lost his poor meatball. 'Cause it wasn't pleased. It rolled off the table, and on to the floor--"  
  
"And then I shot Domino with a Colt Forty-Four!" Stryfe finished.  
  
They both laughed, then Domino sighed, "What'll it take, O Chaos Bringer?"  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For you to leave my head and go back to Nate's."  
  
He wriggled in his chair, as if adjusting to it more, "I kind of like it here."  
  
"I hate telepaths."  
  
"We love you, too."  
  
She dropped her head onto the table, half-banging it. "You need to go away, Stryfe. I have things to do. People to kill. Money to earn."  
  
"Can I watch?"  
  
"No!"  
  
He pouted, "But I never get to do anything fun. Nathan always kept me locked in a tiny corner in his brain. And you keep me stuck in this place of food."  
  
"But it's good food." She pointed out.  
  
"And my meatballs commit suicide."  
  
"That's because you insist on playing with them."  
  
"Well, they're round."  
  
"Uhuh. This explains the male fascination with breasts."  
  
"Not really."  
  
Domino shook her head. "Never mind."  
  
Silence descended for a moment. It was an odd silence, since the place it occurred wasn't exactly real, and the people having the silence were merely a mental represenation of who they were. This probably explained Stryfe's armor having a strange silvery glow that would have eclipsed a sun.  
  
"Don't you ever worry you're a target?"  
  
He just looked at her.  
  
"OK. So, that was a given." She sighed. "I'll make a deal, Stryfe."  
  
"What kind?"  
  
"You don't take over my body, say nasty things to Nate, or make me wear silver and ungainly helmets. And I'll let you see through my eyes."  
  
"Feel?"  
  
She shuddered. "No."  
  
He smirked, "I've worn you down."  
  
"Take it or stay stuck in this tiny corner of my mind while I have fun out there."  
  
"You don't have the power."  
  
"Watch me, or rather, don't."  
  
Stryfe stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. "You can't force me out, but you can keep me locked in. How irritating."  
  
"And I'll hum."  
  
"Horrors."  
  
"I'll hum Askani songs."  
  
"You don't know any."  
  
"Try me."  
  
He paled, then grinned, "I accept, O gracious one."  
  
"The deal?"  
  
"Is on."  
  
-=-finis?-=- 


End file.
